All Because of a Shiny Penny
by Flintphone
Summary: "Sometimes friendships start from the most unlikely of sources..." After Big Bob saves Phil, the two men form an unusual relationship, making things awkward for Arnold and Helga.
1. A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned

**_Edited: 8/5/2014_**

**_Author Notes:_**

**_Being a fairly new idea of mine, this story all started as a little teaser to see how I could make Phil and Big Bob interact in different ways. Frankly, I thought that it would be interesting since Phil in my opinion is more of a liberal person…where as Big Bob seems more conservative. Hope you enjoy. :)_**

**_~ I do not own Hey Arnold. ~ I do not own Hey Arnold. ~ I do not own Hey Arnold. ~_**

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><p><span><strong>All Because of a Shiny Penny<strong>

**By: Flintphone**

**_Part I_**

"**_A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned…"_**

**_-Benjamin Franklin_**

A shiny coin rested flat against the black asphalt of the parking lot, glimmering in the sun like a bright beacon guiding a lost vessel into the safety of its shores. Its coppery-metallic surface appeared unaffected and unblemished as it lay in this spot unattended, seemingly ready for any attentive passerby to take notice of its brilliancy and pocket it as his or her very own.

But, surprisingly, no one who passed by this treasure took notice or interest, nor seemed to care for its significance, viewing the currency as nothing in their estimation.

It wasn't until a certain man who had stepped out of a green Packard immediately took notice of it that the coin finally received the recognition it deserved.

"Golly woulda look at that," the elderly man muttered out loud, stopping short in the middle of the active lot, completely forgetting his surroundings and his future destination as his eyes lit up at the sight of the metal. "That's gotta be one of the shiniest pennies I've ever seen..."

Phil swiftly bent down and picked up the special object that had sparked his attention. Once within his grasp, he curiously fiddled with the penny in his fingers, heavily examining both of its sides, amazed by its perfection.

Yet, he was so absorbed with his appraisal of the coin that he never detected the motion nor the sound of a vehicle speeding towards him.

All the next few seconds seemed to pass by like a blur for the now slightly richer man. He heard a masculine voice yell out something or other, which snapped him out of his coin-induced stupor.

Not sure who or what was being spoken of, he raised his eyes up curiously, wondering what was going on...to find himself in the vehicle's direct path.

The car's bright red paint quickly flashed before his eyes, the gaudy color paralyzing him like a deer in headlights...when suddenly he felt the weight of something barrel into his side.

In an instant, he was swooped off his feet, briefly in mid-air before gravity hit and he promptly landed on his back. His eyes closed instinctively as a sting shot through his spine after he made contact with the hard, course blacktop. He unconsciously hissed in discomfort as his mind clouded over with shock and confusion.

Muffled sounds filled the air, the man unable to decipher them in his haze. Soon, though, his mind was able to discern a gruff, but clearly worried voice nearby ask, "Hey pal...are you alright?"

Phil's ears twitched at the utterance, the voice clearing away some of his shocked daze. He tried to open his eyes to see the words' owner but found it difficult to do so. With effort, however he managed to crack them open.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, the man could make out an obscure, large form looming over him, seemingly bathed in glorious rays of light.

However, it didn't take long for his vision to clear and for the blurred figure to turn into none other than Big Bob Pataki.

His rescuer appeared to be on his knees, his torso upright as his eyes carefully inspected Phil's almost hit form. His face seemed flushed and his chest kept rising and falling as he breathed in and out. "Are…you okay?" Big Bob stressed, having obviously noticed him stirring.

Blinking in surprise, the older man could only nod his head in conformation.

A little time passed as Bob's face went through countless emotions before his expression settled into a sort of angry exasperation, the full weight of the situation all of a sudden hitting him at once.

_"Criminy...what in blue blazes were you thinking?!"_ he blurted out unexpectedly, his worry easily shifting to scolding. He looked pointedly at the laying man, his question not seeming rhetorical.

Phil remained silent, however, not answering his entreaty. Instead, he tried to slowly raise his head up, struggling to ignore the dizziness that still remained. He planted his elbows against the concrete to help prop himself further up before his eyes searched the area around him. "Where's...?" his lips muttered out weakly before the rest of his words fell to the wind.

"Where's...what?" Bob questioned, his features imploring now as he inched closer.

With a look of genuine seriousness, Phil raised his pleading eyes up at the man, asking him the one question that had been plaguing his mind nearly the entire time...

"Where's...my penny?"

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><p><em><strong>Author's Endnotes:<strong>_

_**Wow…that was odd and a little random. *Laughs* But, I found it amusing...**_

_**On a serious note, please do not go around carelessly picking up money, especially in a parking lot of all places, without at least looking around you for cars and such. Look at what almost happened to Phil! :D**_


	2. Penny Wise, Pound Foolish?

**_Author's Notes:_**

**_As much as I thought that the first chapter would make a cute one-shot, this story to me, however, would better serve as a multi-chapter fiction. Hence the second chapter…_**

**_Flintphone_**

**_P.S.-Thanks to all who decided to review, favorite and alert this…or who just showed interest by reading *Bows to readers in a sign of respect*_**

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><p><strong><em>Part II<em>**

"**_Penny-Wise, Pound-Foolish?"_**

A set of narrowed green eyes inspected the model plane in front of them, carefully gazing from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail. As it lay level upon the computer desk, the intricate craft appeared nearly finished, except for its bare surface, which seemed to be silently begging for a fresh coat of paint.

Its creator, flaunting a rather contented smile upon his oblong face, couldn't help feeling proud as he admired his work so far, delighted that he had brought it into being. Each part, each piece (big and small) he'd laboriously arranged and attached together in the correct order...admittedly, not always at first, but had after some time and thought.

Although he dearly desired to fulfill the biplane's dire need for paint, he sighed, knowing that he had to allow it to rest. He had already spent more than enough time on the project as it is...conscious of the growing stiffness in his legs.

Unaware of the time, Arnold glanced at the watch upon his wrist, realizing he had spent almost three hours today on the plane alone.

His brow rose in slight shock at how much time had slipped pass him, his lunch having been skipped in the process. Thus he, after a much-needed stretch of his limbs, abandoned his desk chair and his room, opting to depart from his diversion (at least temporarily) in favor of a late snack...but, not without one last look at his precious creation.

The blonde's descent down the stairs was full of silence, the boardinghouse surprisingly quiet this afternoon, mostly due to the fact that almost half of the boarders had gone out today. He also noticed that as he passed through the foyer and into the kitchen, his grandparents were nowhere in sight.

Arnold shrugged, amused by the current situation...used to the constant noise the many members of his extended family usually brought with them.

Following the desires of his appetite, he set out to make himself a PB& J sandwich, opening up the refrigerator to grab some of the required ingredients. During his rummaging however, a familiar shrieking ring reached his ears. Recognizing the sound as the house phone, he stopped his lunch-making endeavor, ready to run and answer it, when he heard someone else pick it up instead.

He curiously listened in, wondering exactly who had reached the phone before him. From the tone of voice, it sounded as if his grandma had answered it, although from his spot in the kitchen, her exact words were rather muffled and unclear.

Having thought the woman was elsewhere, her grandson briefly mused on the quickness of her movements as he returned to making his sandwich...simply placing a few slices of bread upon his plate before unscrewing the jars of creamy peanut butter and grape jelly.

He was busy spreading said foods upon his large, soft slices that he hardly noticed the rough click of the receiver or the darting, frantic footsteps that suddenly came into the kitchen.

"Arnold...we have to go!"

Startled by the urgent declaration, the very youth whipped his head around, finding his grandmother a few feet away. An unpleasant feeling washed over him once he caught sight of the anxious expression covering her face.

"W-why? What's wrong?" he asked warily, unsettled by her odd behavior.

"The hospital called...they said your grandfather was in some kind of accident..." was all she breathed out, each syllable further conveying her worry.

Instantly, the knife from his hand dropped down with a clank, all thoughts of his hunger suddenly vanishing, now only replaced with overwhelming concern for his grandfather's welfare. Without any hesitation, he deserted his formerly desired sandwich upon the kitchen counter, joining his grandmother as they both hurried out of the house and into the garage.

Knowing that the Packard was not in their possession, they spotted their other mode of transportation...the elderly woman's motorcycle. Quickly, she hopped onto the vehicle, also beckoning her grandson to jump into its attached sidecar, which he complied, forgetting any of his usual feelings of apprehension.

Arnold didn't have much time to buckle himself in before they were off racing down the street. The surrounding neighborhood became an increasing blur as his grandma pressed harder on the acceleration but, he was oblivious to everything around him, including their mounting speed.

His mind was swarming. He could only focus on the myriad of thoughts swirling around in his head like a relentless whirlpool. Desperately, he longed to know the full details of what had befallen his dear relative, if only to mollify the great worry that swelled in his chest.

Upon further contemplation, his heart sank with sudden guilt, ashamed with himself that he'd spent a good portion of the day hovering over a toy plane (which seemed rather frivolous now) all whilst his poor grandfather had been stuck somewhere else hurt and quite possibly in serious pain.

The blonde's guilt only increased tenfold when his conscience cruelly conjured up an image of the man...weak, pale and miserable upon a hospital bed.

Time seemed distorted, mere seconds feeling like hours as his heavy thoughts persisted in this worrisome fashion. They were so deep in fact that he hadn't realized they'd actually reached the hospital until his grandmother veered into its entrance, the force jolting him from his daze-like musings.

An empty parking space was found less than a minute later and the two leaped off the now motionless vehicle, their feet leading them towards the off-white building.

Fueled by adrenaline, the frantic pair rushed through its electric sliding doors and into the bustling emergency room, passing right by a familiar beeper salesman, who being rather lost in thought himself, stormed out of the exit...busy lowly grumbling out his dislike of the day's events.

Too preoccupied in their haste to recognize him, the duo made their way to the reception desk as sudden waves of cold air mercilessly blasted upon them, leaving goosebumps on their previously warmed skin. Fighting off his own urge to shiver, Arnold watched his grandmother give a nurse behind a desk her husband's name. They were forced to wait as the medical professional searched for his information.

It was at that moment that the nine-year old could pause and consider how much this whole ordeal had affected his beloved grandma. Understandably, the concern she felt must have kicked her out of her normal peculiar behavior and into her current serious state.

He managed a good glance at her, sympathetic when he noticed the somber set of her mouth, plus the many stray strands of her hair that stuck out messily here and there...oblivious to the fact that he too looked pretty much the same way.

After a seemingly agonizing wait, which only really consisted of several seconds, they were finally given a room number.

With no conceivable knowledge of what situation awaited them once they reached the room, the two pushed aside its thick curtain buffer with bated breath...

...And there, right before them, comfortably propped upon a hospital bed, laid the man who recently filled their worry-full thoughts.

He curiously raised his head up at the sound of their entrance. Yet, before he had a chance to welcome them with the small smile forming upon his lips, his guests had already dashed over to him, both desperately clinging onto each side of his bed, bombarding the man with questions.

"Whoa, whoa there..." Phil interrupted, overwhelmed, stopping short their stream of inquiries. "I can't understand what you're saying if you're both talking at the same time," he remarked rather calmly from his position, hands on his blanket-clad lap.

Speaking out for them, Arnold took in a quick breath before he started over again. "Are you okay, Grandpa? What happened?" the youth entreated as he leaned in, his anxious eyes scanning from the man's robed form up to his face, looking for any visible injuries.

"Oh I'm alright, Shortman..." his grandfather reassured, the proof in the healthy flush of his cheeks and his casual disposition, a complete contrast from the boy's earlier mental image. "Just got in the way of one of those fancy new cars..." came his added response, shrugging his shoulders against the soft pillow behind his back.

His visitors gasped, alarmed, before imploring him to explain, now left with more questions than satisfying answers.

"Well you see," Phil began, enjoying the chance to tell his experience to an attentive audience. "I was gonna go in the store to buy some of that nice ham they have on sale...you know the roasted honey one that's all cut up into those really thin slices..." he rambled on, becoming more and more sidetracked as his cravings took control of his tongue...that is, until he noticed the impatient glares of his listeners.

He soon cleared his throat, quickly getting back on topic. "So anyway, there I was in their parking lot...when out of nowhere this car came at me...all while I was picking up this..."

Then, as visual aid for his story, he held his hand up for their view...eagerly revealing within his finger tips a brilliant coin.

_"A penny?!"_ Arnold and his grandma each cried out incredulously.

"Yeah, isn't it a beaut?" the owner praised absent-mindedly as his gaze gleamed down with pride upon his newly gained treasure, its beguiling properties having a great hold on him. But, its captivating powers couldn't stop his facial expression from turning slightly more serious when he continued, musing out loud. "It's a good thing that Pataki fella was there to push me out of the way, though..."

The young boy blinked in utter surprise. "Wait...not Pataki as in Big Bob Pataki?" he spoke, stressing the name in disbelief, clearly doubtful that they could be referring to the right man...yet, he couldn't think of any other male Patakis other than the father of his scowling pink-clad classmate.

"Yep, the guy with all those beeper commercials on TV..." his grandpa confirmed, now finally looking up from the currency. "Dang near left me speechless when I saw it was him," he next admitted in a mutter, furrowing his brow as his eyes grew thoughtful.

"He was actually in here a couple of minutes ago...the whole time going on and on about what a crazy old man I am..." At this, a sudden flicker of a smile passed across his lips, appearing somewhat amused by the latter statement.

Arnold gawked, shocked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as his mind tried to process all this information...his grandmother looking quite shocked herself. However, before they had much time to straighten out their thoughts, someone else entered the room.

An experienced-looking doctor, donned in scrubs, had stepped in, making his way over to the occupied hospital bed, his manner friendly as he introduced himself to the family, having already met the patient.

He wasted no time informing them that the many tests taken earlier on the older man showed that he was well...there being no signs of internal bleeding, broken bones or concussion. He made sure to warn the patient however that he may feel some soreness from his incident later, but that it could be easily alleviated with ibuprofen.

"Now, once we have you sign the release forms, you can be on your way home..." the medical physician finished with a satisfied smile, aware of the relief he had just given, it being clearly written across the family members' faces.

All in the room genuinely thanked the man for his service and he replied with a nod, cordially wishing them a good day as he left out the room.

Arnold's heart rate returned to normal, the weight of all the fear and anxiety that had plagued him before finally fading away. Feeling lighter, he turned his attention back onto his laying grandfather...to find him ogling the penny again. When all of a sudden, in one swift movement, the blonde saw the man bring the small metal coin up between his teeth and bite it.

At the inquisitive look Arnold gave him on account of this odd action, the patient responded with a joke, voice filled with mirth. "Hey, wouldn't have wanted to risk my life on a fake penny, now would I?"

A brief silence soon filled the room until...

"Oww, Pookie! What was that for?" Phil whined out suddenly, rubbing his upper arm as he looked at the woman who had delivered the blow...someone, who had obviously, after this whole emotional experience did not appreciate his wisecrack.

Arnold only sighed as the two continued to carry on before him, just grateful that his grandpa was alright and well.

_"All thanks to Big Bob Pataki..."_ his mind then voiced, the boy still utterly baffled as his thoughts lingered on his grandfather's unexpected rescuer...

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><p><strong><em>Author's Endnotes:<em>**

**_Truthfully, this chapter was meant to be released much sooner but, I nearly lost half of it because my computer was acting up for some reason. Then, the whole editing/revising process took me longer than usual…it's not easy to keep rereading my own formal-like style of writing. *Deeply groans* _**


	3. The Other Side of the Coin

_**Author's Notes:**_

_**Yay! I finally updated.**_

_**Now, for the Patakis' reaction…**_

_**Flintphone**_

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><p><strong>Part III<strong>

**"The Other Side of the Coin…"**

A flood of images flashed across a large television screen as one channel after the other was passed by and dismissed with a flick of a remote. The controller of this handy device, a slouched form upon her family's armchair, sank deeper into the comfort of its soft cushions…scouring through the thousands of available cable offerings.

Although numerous, the lounging girl's opinion of these choices became increasingly clear with each passing channel, if the groan that escaped out of her scowling lips was any indication.

"Criminy…" she huffed in her annoyance, upset by the surprising lack of decent programming. Apparently, the full hour spent with her feet propped up in front of the set had proven fruitless…the young Pataki more bored than ever before.

Eager for a new view, Helga's gaze turned away from this tiresome search to glance over at the source of soft snoring nearby.

All spread out comatose upon the adjacent loveseat, the noise came from her mother, who matching the lackadaisical environment around her, entered another uneventful hour of deep sleep. Mouth agape and slightly drooling, the woman only shifted every so often to adjust her heavy head against the sofa's pillows, the action causing her glasses to become further skewed upon her face.

Helga was indifferent to this normal mid-day display, frowning in her seat as she begrudgingly debated whether she should continue with her original quest or find something else more entertaining than these dull surroundings.

However, the sudden slam of the front door put a halt to any further decision-making. With a jolt, the poor child, startled by the abrupt sound, sat up from her slouching position, the television now forgotten along with its accompanying remote.

Loud, heavy footsteps stormed across the foyer, resounding off the floorboards and through the house, breaking the monotony settled about them. Long seconds passed as she waited in anticipation, her curiosity piqued until the cause of the commotion finally came into her sight...in the very form of her father.

Fists clenched and broad shoulders stiff, Big Bob made an intimidating figure as he stood in the living room's doorway, his mere stance giving off the intensity of his ill mood. Unaware of the effect he had, much less of the family members around him, the man only thought of and sought after the room's chair, blindly shuffling his way over…until he noticed the person in his self-proclaimed seat.

Caught off guard, he froze once their gazes met. His eyes widened, surprised by her unexpected appearance, particularly when his mind had been elsewhere.

Yet, the startled expression upon his face soon vanished and in its place came an intense glare and matching grimace that would have scared off most. He imposingly loomed over the child, like an ominous dark cloud, impatient for his own time in the armchair. Adding on the pressure, he gave his head a jerk, attempting once and for all to motion the girl out of the seat.

Helga wasn't afraid of his rough behavior, if not somewhat intrigued. Understanding the meaning of his weak command, she decided to obey him, not wanting to upset whatever mood he was in but, not without an exasperated sigh and eye roll. So, up she rose, albeit, a little too slowly in her father's opinion, and headed off to the side.

Satisfied, Big Bob shuffled over to the now vacant spot, his joints tight and his muscles sore. Large hands gripped the cloth armrests for support before he plopped down with a heavy sigh, the chair eliciting a squeak from under his weight. He reclined back, closing his weary eyes in relief, loving the way the cushions would, after so many years, conform to his stress-filled body.

Helga would've normally walked away at such a display, leaving him to his activities but, as she studied him and his peculiar behavior, she couldn't deny that something was wrong. Before she could think better of it, she approached him, wanting to squash both the curiosity and concern growing within her.

"What's up with you?" she asked him rather curtly, still studying him as she leaned a bony elbow on the chair's armrest.

Bob flinched at the sound of her voice, having forgotten all about her presence once he had made contact with the plush furniture. Uncomfortable under her scrutiny, not to mention the subject, he stubbornly kept his eyes trained on the flickering television screen in front of him.

"Nothin'…" the man grumbled over the sound of the set, hoping she would leave after receiving a reply. Yet, the girl remained beside him, her shadow heavy, managing to upset him further, especially on a day already chock-full of irritations.

He finally shot her a pointed glance under hooded eyes, up to his limit in patience. "Go and play or somethin', would ya?" came his grunt, ushering her away with a wave of his hand, returning his attention onto his previous occupation.

For the second time that day, Helga rolled her eyes, both irritated and disappointed to be cast aside so offhandedly. Wondering why she had even bothered to care in the first place, she drew away from the chair, tossing a glare at the television, bitter that the device could garner more of his attention than she ever could.

However, before she could march off and stew in her bitterness, she caught her father's image appear on the screen. She blinked, for while the sight of him during commercial break was common, the fact that he seemed to be the current news topic on the local news was certainly an unusual occurrence.

Ignoring the gasp and shuffling happening near her, Helga listened in closely as the reporter spoke.

_"...Sources reported that local businessman Big Bob Pataki saved an elderly man from an oncoming car th-"_

She wasn't allowed more information, for with a distinct click, the machine was promptly shut off. Surprised in more ways than one, she whipped around to face the man responsible, finding him wide-eyed and alert in his seat- a great contrast from his formerly relaxed self.

Helga furrowed her brow, confused, not sure if she had heard correctly. Surely, she must have missed some crucial information, for she knew her father and his tendencies. Perhaps the whole thing was some way to promote himself and his business… but, none of that reasoning explained his current reaction.

Big Bob was visibly shaken, clenching onto the remote in his hand like a lifeline. The incident he had forever wished to forget was now broadcast for all to see, without his knowledge or approval. He had scrambled to silence the dreaded report, not wanting to deal with his daughter's stares and inquiries, but couldn't prevent the inevitable.

… Here she was, looking up at him with expectant eyes, intent on receiving some type of explanation.

_"What?"_ he snapped at her, unable to take her piercing gaze anymore, upset that the media for once in his life had failed him.

Undeterred, Helga gestured between him and the television now shrouded in darkness. _"Y-You?"_ she stressed slowly as if some joke. _"You saved-?"_

_"Yeah, what of it?"_ Bob retorted with a deep frown, not letting her finish as he crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child. "If the ol' geezer from the boardinghouse had been looking where he was going, I wouldn't be in this mess."

Helga's jaw dropped. There was but one boardinghouse in the city and that boardinghouse from her knowledge had only one elderly man… Arnold's grandfather.

_"W-Wait… from the golf game?"_ she asked in a low voice, remembering their match…not believing her father could have saved her beloved's grandfather, much less anyone else for that matter.

The Pataki faintly nodded, on some level glad to vent. "... Stopped right in the middle of the parking lot...for _a penny...a stinkin' penny..._" he hissed through clenched teeth, irked by the sheer ridiculousness of the older man's actions.

_"A penny?"_ Helga blinked at this information, again surprised, this time by the fact that all this involved something so trivial and valueless.

Big Bob scoffed, muttering a few words under his breath. He'd already expressed his opinion of the object to the bed-ridden man… to have his words fall on deaf ears, the foolish man more enthralled with the meager coin than the dispensed common sense.

"_Criminy_… you'd think they wouldn't let someone that _loony_ out of the house…" he groaned as he rubbed his now throbbing head, frustrated by the elder's ability to wreak havoc on his poor nerves.

Exhausted, he nestled himself back into the safety of the armchair, hoping to put this day of insanity behind him once and for all.

As for Helga, her mind was still reeling, the girl clearly overwhelmed, if her dazed expression was any indication. His admission had of course been surprising but, most striking was the lack of smugness in his tone. Instead of being rather proud of his supposed heroics, he was defensive, as if embarrassed by his actions.

Was it possible that this was an actual act of bravery...and not some publicity stunt?

She had to know more.

Helga tentatively inched closer to his lounging form. "B-b-but-" she started to say but stammered, having trouble properly expressing her swarming thoughts.

However, Big Bob had had enough, desperate to end the topic and the feelings it evoked._ "Enough!"_ he barked at her loudly, slamming his fist hard against the armrest for emphasis.

Helga flinched back, startled, her mouth clamping shut as any would-be questions died in her throat.

The room descended into a heavy, uncomfortable silence…

...Until a loud snore erupted from the sprawled out form upon the nearby sofa. Surprised, both their gazes fell upon the woman who had been forgotten in lieu of all the recent events. She appeared happy as she shifted in her sleep, muttering something about a horse named Molasses before another throaty snore emitted from her parted lips…oblivious to everything around her.


End file.
